


Odds, Bobs, and Metal Shards

by JustACandle



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: And basically everyone else - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2018-10-24 15:12:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10744257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustACandle/pseuds/JustACandle
Summary: Based on fics I've seen elsewhere- One word prompts with accompanying snippets, including most of the characters in  various points during, before, and after the main storyline of the game.





	1. Chapter 1

**Damp**

Truly, she loved the rain- the sweet taste of it, the way the colors of the world shone more vivid when drenched, the smell of the earth surrounding her in a moist cloud. But she could really do without the side effect of damp boots. She grumbled to herself, squelching along, and thought longingly of a bedroll and a campfire, with her clothes hung up to dry.

**Brother**

He hadn't been around children much, certainly hadn't had any of his own, but damned if he wouldn't try and figure out just how this was supposed to work.

“Your, uhm... your highness?” He sighed. The first step should probably be to drop the formality.

“You can use my name, brother.” Itamen looked nervous, staring shyly at the ground.

“A-... Avad?” He looked up slowly, the corners of his mouth creeping up when he saw his big brother smiling encouragingly at him.

“Yes, brother?”

“Would... would you... go for a walk... with me?”

A walk? An odd request, but it was a start at least. His smile widened and Itamen positively beamed when he answered,

“I would love to.”

**Cathedral**

Talanah had never been very religious- or, at least, she had not regularly attended church, always finding herself with more important things to do. But with a lull in hunting, she found herself drawn to the temple. She felt utterly at peace under its arches, the sounds of the priests singing echoing around her, the worshippers all staring in awe or singing along. Vanasha sighed and shifted impatiently.

“Not my _preferred_ activity for my day off.”

“Shhh...” The huntress smiled and closed her eyes. “Just enjoy it.” There was silence from her companion and Talanah wasn't sure if she was being respectful or if she had wandered off. It didn't matter, much. She'd catch up with her later.

**Chased**

_Shit shit shit shit shit-_

Aloy gasped as she threw herself over a fallen tree, rolling just in time to avoid being slammed with a thunderjaw's head. On her feet again, and not losing a moment to weave around one tree, roll around a boulder, and duck into one of the ruined structures from the metal world. She planted herself close to the ground in one corner, head under the tall grass. A red light shown through the open side of the building. The creature paused for a moment, head moving back and forth as it scanned the area. It clunked its way along the wall and disappeared around the corner.

Aloy let out a sigh of relief that turned sharply into a cry as a warning chime sounded and the wall just before her collapsed. She rolled away, looking forward to her attacker. A thunderjaw. It was a pair.  
_Shit shit shit SHIT_ she chanted again as she took off into the trees once more, the forest lighting up in angry red around her.

**Cheating**

A two. Janeva frowned at the die, the shards on the table, and then at the woman across from him.

“I don't believe it.”

“You'd _better_ believe it, shortstuff, and I want the scarf next.” He grumbled a bit, but slipped the cloth from his hair and handed it to her. The die rattled in his hand as he called “Three!” and let it fly. Petra roared with laughter as the stone landed, showing five black dots. The soldier coughed up five more shards to the pile as the Oseram woman took her turn.

“Six!” She called out. The die flew, tumbled across the table and landed, in an entirely mocking way, right before him. Janeva gaped.

“You're heartless, Petra.” Erend tutted in the chair to his right, out of the game with only his smallclothes and his left boot to his pride. Petra herself had lost her right boot, her headscarf, and nothing else. There must have been some trick, he thought. Some way she was turning the die, or the way she twitched her wrist on every roll...

She smirked at her victim across the table. “Uh huh, and next I want the pants.”

Janeva swore, but stood and began untying the belt of his trousers. This would teach him to play dice with an Oseram.

**Prayer**

“ _Shadow take you_ , Helis, if you don't stop praying and come finish what you started _right now_.”

**Pink**

“Communal bath?” Aloy stared up at the sign, feeling the steam drift out of the open door. “As in... everyone bathes together?”

Talanah shrugged. “An old Carja tradition from way back. It fell out of fashion years ago, but I guess some people still like that sort of thing.”

“Do the Oseram have anything like this?” Aloy asked, turning to Erend and catching him looking quickly away from her.

“Uh, um. No, we... hm.” He shook his head vigorously.

His face had taken on a rich shade. Probably he was drunk again.

**Heaven**

Little wonder why Helis had chosen a room overlooking the Sun Ring, or why he had removed the door to the balcony. Sunlight wasn't the only thing streaming in.  
If there was any trace of heaven here, it was his teeth on her neck, his voice growling into her ear about the glory of it all. If there was any hell, it was in her coming alive as others died below, her screams mixing with theirs in horrific symphony, and his breath creeping across her as he laughed.

**Ageing**

Had it really been that long? The world seemed to go still, giving her time to process. She wasn't really sure what to do with the thought. She could return to Nora lands, visit Rost's grave... the idea didn't seem particularly appealing. It was a long trip from Meridian, and what would she do once she got there? It was more trouble than it was worth. And what did any of this matter anyway? She huffed to herself a bit, walking past the guard outside of Olin's house(more 'her' house, now).  
It was silly. She knew most other people would celebrate, but Rost had never done much and she didn't see the point in starting that sort of tradition now. What was the point?

_What was the point?_

But at the same time... it didn't seem right to keep it to herself. She could imagine Vanasha and Petra nagging her about it once they found out and insisting they go overboard on a celebration just to bother her for not telling them.

With a sigh, she made her way to the bar that her companions had taken to frequenting after the battle of Meridian. It was early still, but she found most of them present. Janeva was leaning back in a chair just outside the open entry, watching the soldiers drill, with Nakoa sitting at a small table nearby; Erend was right up at the counter, pouring back his second pint, by the look of it, with Petra hounding him and Vanasha backing her up. Talanah walked in behind her, smiling and giving her back a pat as she passed. She stood near the table Petra and Vanasha had taken up, noticing Nil back in a corner looking amused and vaguely uncomfortable- he was apparently still getting used to being amongst people again.

She watched Erend waving off the peanut gallery for a moment before clearing her throat. The chatter died down and the eyes of her companions all turned to her.

“It's, um... well, this is stupid, but I wanted you all to know, anyway. I've been told it's a big deal to others, but it's... it's my birthday.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the room burst into noise again, chairs clattering as several of them stood and surrounded her. Congratulations were thrown around, a few semi-agitated voices asking why she hadn't told them sooner, and a good many plans made to celebrate and buy presents, despite her trying to let them know it really wasn't necessary.

“Nonsense!” Petra cut her off. “You kids have got to have fun with these things while you can. Pretty soon it'll just be a bother.”

Aloy almost replied that it was a bother now, but the sight of everyone around her, being happy for her, killed any more complaints in her throat. She smiled, nodded at Petra, and thanked everyone before they whisked her off to spoil her as best they could.


	2. Chapter 2

**Economy**

There was something a bit odd, Aloy realised, about using your currency as part of your weaponry. But she stood aside the shop's stall, undoing all her fine work with her arrows until she had a decent pile of shards and a very sad bundle of bare shafts. The shop keeper, a moment ago disdainful, was all smiles at the sight of money and handed the new bow over. She slung it across her back as she walked away, sighing.

_So I had a hundred arrows and a broken bow, and now I've got a bow but... no arrows. Great._

 

**Hangover**

“Aloy, I swear I'll never ask you this again, but can you _please_ keep your voice down?” Erend groaned, one gloved hand draped over his face. “And let me sleep.”

“Erend, this is the _marketplace_. Get up and put your shirt back on.”

 

**Learning**

“Rock. Tree. Turkey. Goose...” She skipped forward along the dirt path, lines of light and color around her in an almost protective dome. Scribbles and squiggles hovered over her various targets as she looked around. The Focus highlighted the way before her.

“Grass! Dirt! D-I-R- _T_!” She kicked at the ground as she bounced along, stopping abruptly as she rounded a cliffside.

A small remant of the metal world lay before her, mostly ruined and likely entirely ignored and avoided by the Nora. Two metal sheets, crumpled and attached to poles, rested against the rocks on the cliff. The smaller one she couldn't make out and only had two markings, but the larger one was covered in longer words.

“Mmmm-ooooohhhh-nnnn-uuuuhhhh-mmmmehhhhnntttt.... moenuhment? Moenuhment vvvaaahhlllle-oh! _Valley_! Moenuhment valley?” Beside the words were a few numbers and an arrow apparently pointing the way to this unknown valley, but given the way the sign had been twisted it was impossible to tell which direction one was meant to go.

“Aloy?” Rost came around the corner, sighing when he saw what had taken her interest. “Not again.”

“Rost? What's a moenuhment?”

 

**Opera**

Aloy sighed, drumming her fingers on one bent knee, cringing a moment later when the woman's pitch soared to a piercing shrill. She leaned toward Vanasha.

“I can't understand a word they're saying.” She whispered at the same time as the other woman muttered “I have no _idea_ what's going on, here.” Both women smiled at each other in mutual sympathy.

“At least _she's_ enjoying it.” Vanasha nodded toward Talanah who was staring in utter admiration at the players on the stage, mouthing out the words in time with the various bellows, shrieks, and moans they'd sing out.

“Must be a Carja thing.” Aloy grumbled but Vanasha shook her head, wincing as the singing rose once again to a near-deafening note.

“Nope. Enough of this. I'm out.” Talanah looked up long enough to see her go before her attention focused back toward the stage.

“Some people just can't appreciate art, eh?” She smiled and scooted closer to Aloy.

“Yeah,” the young hunter sighed again. “Some people.”

 

**Star**

Helis stood outside the tent, praying again. Sylens paid him barely a glance before returning to the text shown by his Focus. He hadn't had the heart yet to tell the champion that he was worshipping a star, the same thing as all those little lights in the night sky that Helis all but ignored. There didn't seem to be much point in bursting his bubble. And besides, as Sylens reasoned, there were definitely stranger things to worship than the most powerful known force in creation.

 

**Numbering**

“There are a lot more bandits this time.”

“The more the merrier, or so they say.”

Aloy glanced at her companion. “Who says that?”

Nil grinned. “I do. I imagine you think it, even if you won't say the words aloud.”

She heaved a sigh, not bothering to refute this time; it was bound to go in one ear and out the other, anyway. “How do you want to handle it this time?” She asked instead.

“As much as I love your usual routine of picking vermin off at a distance, what say you to spicing things up a bit? Take the fight in close and personal? It's infinitely more exciting, killing someone when you're face-to-face. Easier to keep track of the kills that way, too.”

“I don't keep track.”

“You should.”

“I'd rather not.” she said, rising to a half-crouch. “Let's just go.”

From somewhere off to the left inside the camp came a strangled gurgle of a cry, followed by Nil's triumphant voice. Aloy rolled her eyes and started forward. “Ok, guess we've already started, then.”

She had just knocked a bandit to the ground with an arrow right between the eyes when a body fell from above, almost crushing her.

“ _Nil_? Maybe wait for me to MOVE, next time?!”

He apparently didn't hear her, as footsteps pounded away above, his only reply being a cry of “Three!”

She cast a confused and worried look in his general direction and started off again. A minute later another bandit collapsed just before they had reached her, Nil giving her a blood-spattered sneer as he stepped back from it. “Four.”

“What, so we're _counting_?”

“Of course we're counting. You won't understand just how satisfying it is until you try it.”

“I am _not_ keeping track of my kills, Nil. I really don't think I'l- _HEY_ _!_ ” He had turned tail and darted off again, throwing a quick, “Just try it and you'll see!” over his shoulder as he went.

Fifteen minutes later, an almost perfect silence reigned over the camp. Nil toed the side of a dying bandit, sighing in a fairly dramatic and forlorn way as the man gave his last and expired.

“Nil?”

“Ye- _oof_!” The body of a bandit thrown roughly against him nearly sent him to the ground. Aloy stood a few feet away, blood-smeared, sweat-streaked, and giving him a tired and grim look. He smiled.

“Twelve. Told you it was more fun.”

“ _Sixteen_ , and I don't feel any better about this.”

 

**Crush**

She had only been gone an hour and Varl was still kicking himself for not trying to go with her. He knew she probably would have asked him to stay, and that her journey westward was a personal one, but still. With the bustle of a repairing Meridian behind him, he stared at the horizon and wondered just how long he would have to wait.

“You too?”

He jumped a little and turned to face his company. Teb, the picture of peace with a smile on his face and a black eye, holding a bundle close to his chest.

“For Aloy?” Varl asked, indicating the package with a wave, to which Teb nodded in answer and asked,

“I'm too late, aren't I?”

A sudden surge of something, a tightening in his chest, and Varl almost wanted to walk away. But he pulled himself together; he was better than jealousy. He turned back to the path she had taken, staring off into the distance, and smiled. He couldn't blame Teb, or that Oseram soldier, or anyone else, really. There was just something about that woman.

“Yes, but it's alright,” he said, nodding forward. “She'll be back.”

**Orbital**

“How did they get these images? These pictures of the world?” Aloy's voice echoed eerily in the metal halls of the ruin.

“ _Satellites_. Metal creations that were launched beyond the bounds of our world.” But this created more questions than it had answered. Aloy's lips parted and a stream sprang forth:

“Metal creations? Like the machines? How did they send them beyond the world? What _is_ beyond the world? How did it send the pictures back? Through some device... like the Focus? Are the satellites still up there? Do they still wor-?”

“ _ALOY_.” Sylens' voice deepened to an agitated warning, but if Aloy didn't know better she would have thought there was an oddly warm tone there as well. “While I can appreciate your curiosity, you have more important things to take care of at present.”

“More important things. Right.” She grit her teeth, wanting little more than to reach through the Focus' connection and rattle answers out of the man, but turned away from the holographic image of the planet and continued down the hall. “Can you at least tell me,” she began as she slipped into a room with empty chairs and destroyed hologram terminals. “How these... _satellites_ stayed up there? Did they have wings?”

“It's... not so simple an explanation, and unfortunately not a subject I've been able to find much information about. I was rather hoping you might find something more than I have in your travels. As I understand it, objects beyond our world are not bound to it the way we are. Instead, they float and circle around larger objects in an _orbit_ \- the same way our world moves around the sun, which I'm sure must be news to yo-”

“I know we're moving around the sun, _Sylens_ , I just wanted to know about the satellites.”

“...”

“Well? ...Sylens? …y'know, for a grown man you can be an absolute child sometimes.”

 

**Material**

 

Nakoa hadn't been too sure about her at first- Vanasha, the chatty woman who popped in regularly to see Aloy and alternately throw Nakoa a compliment or snippy but lighthearted remark, apparently dependent on her own whims. She felt even less sure when the beautiful woman had started fawning over her in a half-flattering, half-teasing way, talking about how pretty Nakoa was and how nice she would look in this style or that, and maybe with her hair done up a bit different. Somehow she had swept the girl into store after store, with such a pace as to make the Nora dizzy, and she still wasn't sure just what she was supposed to make of this beautiful, dark woman who oozed charm as easily as a person can breathe. It wasn't until they had reached a tailor and Vanasha gasped, pulling a bolt of fine, gorgeous fabric from the wall and holding it across Nakoa, that she settled on an opinion.

“This,” Vanasha began, smiling brightly. “This is what I've been looking for. _This_ is worthy of you.”

She was flirtatious. She was probably a liar. But damned if she weren't the sort of person worth holding on to.

 

**Relief**

There hadn't been time before the battle to say much. The two soldiers had acknowledged each other, and then moved to their respective positions before the waves of machines crashed into them. Now that the battle was won, it was time to count losses and see who was still standing.

Janeva did what he could in the clearing away of rubble, the moving of bodies, and the directing and redirecting of the survivors, always paying everyone the attention they deserved but always _always_ on the look out for Him. Surely he wouldn't have fallen. Not that man. Most people were fair game, but certain individuals were bound to survive any odds. The days wore on, the city began to right itself and not look like a _complete_ disaster. But still no sign of the man. Janeva, in spite of himself, began to worry. He started to ask around, mostly among the other soldiers, but reports beyond the start of the battle were scattered and unreliable. A week after the Battle for Meridian ended, he finally gave up.

There was a small bar just on the edge of the market proper, frequented mostly by soldiers and the occasional mercenary, and Janeva had taken to dragging himself there at the end of the day, collapsing into a chair just outside of the entryway. The evening was turning, the sun almost below the horizon, the lanterns and torches being lit all around the city as the light dimmed. The crowds thinned to a trickle. Janeva leaned back and closed his eyes, enjoying the calm atmosphere of a slight, warm evening breeze and light chatter.

The chair next to him scuffed the dirt as it was dragged and rearranged, a body heavier than his own settling into it.

“You bastard.” He muttered without cracking an eye open. “You _survived_.”

“A little better for the wear.” That voice, same as always; he could _hear_ the grin and pictured the familiar crooked smirk before he had opened his eyes to see it.

“If that's what you're telling yourself, ah... _Nil_ , is it now?”

His left arm and chest were heavily bandaged, the former resting at an odd angle that suggested some sort of splint, and a magnificent array of cuts and bruises had taken over the left side of his face, accompanying a still-healing broken nose. From the looks of things, he had gotten on the bad side of a thunderjaw. But he was smiling all the same.

“It is. And you should see the other poor bastard.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose now is as good a time as any to point out that I'm firmly in the 'Aloy is ace' camp, but hell if I won't have fun with the idea of her being with someone, whether for romantic or sexual reasons.  
> In totally unrelated news, one of these snippets gets more than a little suggestive, just fyi.

**Skunk**

“Gaia?”

“Yes, Aloy?”

“... _why_.”

 

**Stress**

To say that tensions ran high after Itamen's rescue would have been an understatement. There were immediate worries that the Shadow Carja would retaliate in some way and Avad answered these concerns with changes throughout the city and guard. Erend was busy making sure things didn't fall apart and shooed Aloy away when she came to offer help. He wanted to prove himself, she supposed, but this left her with nothing to do while she stayed in Meridian for a few days, resting and stocking up on supplies.

Vanasha found her on the second day, an hour before sunset. Three hours later found the two of them in her apartments, and a half-hour after that Aloy discovered what Vanasha considered stress-relief.

“You know, when you said you'd give me a 'proper thanks',” Aloy groaned into her arms where they rested on the pillow under her, laying belly-down. “This isn't what I was expecting.” She groaned again as Vanasha, from her perch on Aloy's rear, released a knot between her shoulders with skilled fingers.

“That'll teach you.” Vanasha, a smile in her voice, continued her ministrations down the huntress' back.

 

 

**Alone**

Being alone had its downsides, as Sylens learned quickly. Seated in a ruin, his Focus playing out a message left by one of the Old Ones, the new information it gave him and his excitement could be shared with none. The only witnesses to his newest revelation were the skeletons in the corner.

 

 

**Program**

Sometimes it was hard to remember just what Gaia was. She would visualize via Aloy's Focus, looking much the same as Sylens and other holograms had, and it was easy to pretend that she was a person, same as any of them. Gaia herself ( _it_ self?) had cautioned against that way of thinking. Aloy had confronted her about it just once.

“I had hoped you would understand that I really can't help it. How else am I supposed to feel towards the only mother I have left?”

Gaia had said nothing, her holographic image lowering its gaze before flickering out. She never brought it up again.

 

 

**Bay**

“I hope you don't mean _those_ ruins.” Aloy muttered from her hiding spot, crouched in the tall grass on the edge of the bay. Out in the water rose a number of small islands, each with the remnants of a building. The amount of possible locations wasn't really the issue. The water was alive with the lights of a dozen or so snapmaws, the surface rippling around them.

“If you're not up to the task, just say so.” Sylens, half-taunting and half-annoyed, spoke through her Focus.

“Fine, but if I lose a leg to one of these things, you owe me a new one,” Aloy growled, slipping silently into the water.

 

**Thighs**

Talanah, as Aloy soon realised, had a thing for thighs- Aloy's especially, with their muscular solidity. Another thing she realised, as she watched her fellow huntress grinding into her bare skin, muscles in her legs flexing, was that Aloy had a thing for thighs too.

 

 

**Cure**

“You brought the eggs?”

Aloy shuffled the bundles in her arms, procuring the basket full of fresh eggs for him. Erend took it gratefully, tip-toeing back into the room and hovering over a bowl and cup.

“Ok, I have to ask- what is all this _for_?” She asked, stepping into the room and setting the rest of her cargo onto the rather dingy-looking bed. A few bundles of herbs with peculiar (and some outright _awful_ ) smells tumbled out of one bag. Erend set to work crushing, cutting, and mixing various ingredients in the bowl.

“Do you know what yesterday was?”

“Can't say that I do.”

Erend went quiet for a minute, focusing bleary eyes on his concoction, before continuing.

“It was the anniversary of Ersa... of when she...”

The bowl slammed onto the table, the mixture nearly splattering out entirely. Aloy looked away out of respect as he covered his face and cried silently into his palms, his broad shoulders shuddering. When he had regained a bit of composure she whispered a low “I'm sorry. I didn't know”. With a wet sniffle he turned back to the bowl, whisking at what was left with a fork.

“What... did you do?”

He looked over his shoulder at her, giving a tired and wry smile under red-rimmed eyes.

“What do you think?”

“And all this stuff is for...?”

“It's to help ease the goddamned thunder in my fool head.” He rolled his shoulders in a shrug, pouring the mixture into the cup nearby. It slithered and slopped out with the consistency of thick snot. Aloy's nose crinkled.

“That's disgusting.”

“Sometimes, Aloy, the cure is worse than the sickness.” Erend sighed, raising his glass in a toast first to her and then to the ceiling. He pinched his nose and drank the lot in one go.

 

 

**Lesbian**

“Petra...”

“Well, have you really looked at that girl? Built like an anvil, and I mean that in the best way possible.”

“Yes, but Petra-”

“Although Talanah's got a figure like a heartache and an agility to dream about, if you catch my-”

“ _Petra_ , I don't really-”

“Nakoa's a sweet thing, too. A bit fire-y, like you. Must be a Nora thing, eh?”

“...”

“You certainly attract the best, Aloy.”

 

**Virtue**

It took Ersa a surprisingly short time to discover that Avad was utterly inexperienced, and an even shorter amount of time to fix that problem.

 

**Endure**

“These things do happen.”

_But why?_

“It's a part of life.”

_I know that better than you._

“It's the will of the Sun.”

_If this is the Sun's will, Jiran, I want no part of it._

“They will be remembered-”

_I'll never forget them._

“-but we must move on. Persevere. There is so much still to do.”

_I can't. I don't want to move anymore. I don't want any of this._

“The Sun has many demands.”

_Don't make me go on._

“But it is not without honor. As _I_ am not without honor.”

_I don't care. I don't CARE._

“Someone so loved should be given the highest honor of all.”

…

“They will be remembered, Helis. And honored above all others. Would you allow them to rest with the Sun's most blessed? The catacombs will always have space for the worthy.”

Helis rose, pausing over the shrouded body before turning to face the sun king, whose face wore an expression of understanding. He, too, had lost those he loved. He too had endured. Perhaps that was enough, to keep moving ahead even when you've left your heart behind. Perhaps you could become better for the loss of it; stronger, like Jiran had. Helis' chest held an ache to end all other pains and surely there had to be a reason for it. He turned back his wife's corpse, belly still swollen around their child. With all the gentleness and care he had left in his body, he scooped them up and followed after Jiran as he led the champion back out into the sunlight.


	4. Chapter 4

**Who**

The first waves of machines weren't particularly difficult to take down, giving the gate guard plenty of time to warm up for the long fight ahead. A sawtooth wandered in at one point, but the rest were easy enough to handle with one or two soldiers. It was a little disappointing, Nil thought. As the morning wore on the pace picked up until he was busy enough to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

He had just let fly an arrow at a barrel of blaze across the bridge, igniting a ravager, when he heard a potentially feminine grunt from somewhere to his left and turned just in time to watch a spear fly through the air behind him, catching a charging longleg in the head and sending it to the dirt. The battle in his immediate vicinity stalled, he allowed himself time to appreciate the work and let out a low whistle.

“Nice work, Aloy, but shouldn't you be-” He turned to face the owner of the spear as she approached to retrieve her weapon, and frowned at her. “You're not Aloy.”

“No,” the woman- small, with thick blonde hair braided back and a soft, oval face -glanced at him as she pulled her spear out, panting rather. “I'm not.”

“So, who _are_ you?”

A screech from beyond the girl, somewhere in the trees, rang out. She looked from the trees and glanced back at Nil as she took off.

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters!” He replied, following and quickly catching up to her. “I'd like to know who I might die beside.”

“Nil! _To your left_!” The familiar voice of Janeva barked from near the gate, sending the ex-soldier's attention to a charging longleg. He swung into it, his knife piercing the sack at its chest, before rolling away and lobbing a grenade at its legs. Staggered, it was simple work to finish it off. He had retrieved his knife and was just wiping it off on his pants when the blonde woman came racing back out of the treeline. He grinned at her.

“Ready to tell me who you are no-?”

She grabbed his arm as she ran past, whipping him around and dragging him back toward the gate.

“The next wave is coming!” She bellowed over to the Oseram manning the guns.

“ _Then aren't we running the wrong way?_ ”

She was surprisingly strong for such a small person. Janeva met them as they neared the gate, waving them both in and taking the woman's other hand as more Oseram and Meridian guards poured out to meet the incoming machines.

“ _Janeva_! Who is this?” Janeva rolled his eyes and kept running, dragging them both along. The woman looked over her shoulder at Nil, tripping a bit.

“We're in the middle of a BATTLE, _is this really the time_?!”

“There's no BETTER time for introductions!”

Janeva cursed from the front of their line, slamming to a stop so suddenly that the woman smacked into him. The soldier pulled his halberd from his back, moving into a defensive stance. The blonde followed suit, Nil moving to a better position next to her as a group of Kestrels advanced on the trio. Janeva barked out orders and Nil, out of habit, followed them perfectly. The Nora woman caught on quickly and the three charged in.

Nil and Janeva had fought side-by-side in the past, and there was still enough familiarity between them that they paired up perfectly. The Nora proved herself to be a seamless addition, the trio balanced out perfectly between Janeva's more defensive tactics, Nil's aggressive approach, and her habit of slipping in right when one or the other could use the extra help.

“You can call me Nil, by the way!” He called out, rolling around a Kestrel and slicing the backs of the man's knees as he went, sending him to the ground where Nil was ready with a slash to his throat. The woman pulled her move of throwing the spear again, the weapon sinking deep into the chest of another soldier, leaving Janeva with the last one. She stood, panting and staring at Nil with something between annoyance and acceptance.

“My name's Nakoa.”

Nil grinned. “There, was that so hard?”

 

**Tank**

“It's not like the other machines, is it?”

“Not quite.” Sylens' voice came through the Focus in a sputter, the wind and snow whipping around Aloy in a whirl. “Tanks didn't run on their own. They needed a human _inside_ of them in order to function.”

“That sounds a little disturbing, to be honest.”

“It's not as strange as you might think.”

Aloy poked the half-buried machine with the end of her spear, hearing a surprisingly hollow sound on contact.

“And if I were one of those ancient machine-dwelling humans, how would I get in?”

“A hatch opens on top, I believe. I doubt there's anything of interest in there, Aloy.”

The hunter ignored him and climbed to the top, exploring the apparent hatch with more thuds from her spear, eventually finding what seemed to be a crack near the bottom. Prying the blade of her spear into resulted in nothing more than her nearly ruining her weapon. Further examination of the construct revealed a buckled section of metal buried just under the ice and snow layer, and this crack at least could be forced open with a bit of elbow grease.

The inside was dark, cramped, and smelled much the same as any of the machines Aloy had encountered in the wild. But it was snow-free and it was warm. Nestled in a seat were the remains of one of the ancient ones. Aloy kept to the other side of the tank and settled in to wait out the storm blowing just outside of the hole she had made.

 

**Floor**

Aloy decided, too late, that the floor was probably not the best place for this sort of thing. Sure, the fire nearby had warmed it, but the way Erend bore into her she knew she would have more than a few bruises in very uncomfortable places in the morning.

 

**Trap**

Between setting up the traps and wires themselves and clearing the immediate area of any animals or machines that might set anything off, it had taken the better part of two hours to set everything up. The forest all around her hummed and shined with them all, leaving her with a safe space right in the center in a blind she'd crafted. It had been a small fortune to either buy or make each and every one, but if she could pull it off, it would be well worth the trouble. An hour passed with her waiting in her blind and she finally heard the crackle and the beating in the sky that signaled the arrival of her quarry. All it had to do was land in any of the trapped areas and the forest would light up with enough explosive power to drop a behemoth. From her spot in the center, she had planned it to be far enough away so that she would not be harmed.

The beating in the air grew louder, the trees beginning to wave and then shake with the force of the machine's wings. A shadow was thrown over her and her breath stop. By painfully slow increments, she tilted her head up to the sky, taking in the sight of the stormbird just as the light on the treetops around it turned from blue to red. The crackling electricity spiked, and it dove.

“Oh, **F** -!”

 

**Pile**

“ _At last_!” Avad gasped, dropping face-first into the pile of cushions, feeling every dragging minute of the day in the throbbing knot at his temple. Marad called out for him from another room, and Avad childishly considered hiding under the pillow-y mass. 

 

**Problem**

“Why have we stopped?”

Sylens sighed, kneading at his forehead. “Do you _not_ see the bellowbacks or the ravagers before us?”

Helis squinted, peering into the woods.

“I do see them. That does not explain why we've stopped.”

“I suppose you think we can just charge right in, don't you?”

Helis gave him a long look, stood, and bellowed out orders to his men before leaping from the ledge and closing the distance to the machines with great heavy strides.

Sylens watched the forest light up with explosives, the ground coating in blaze from the machines' canisters.

“I suppose that'll work.”

Somewhere ahead of him Helis was barking out a war cry over the groans of a bellowback, and a stand of trees were trampled to the ground.

 

**Smoke**

Watching the smoke rise from the campfires before the spire, Varl found himself not able to think about the battle ahead. He couldn't even think of Aloy, although she was on the mind of nearly everyone there. Instead, his mind caught on memories of Varla. She wouldn't have missed this for the world, he thought. As much as she loved her home, she would never have given up the opportunity to reach out to those in need and see that justice was done and the land protected. She should have been there with him. She would have been, if she had survived. If she hadn't been murdered.

Varl pulled his furs closer around his shoulders and stared out into the night. Somewhere out there, striding proud in their convictions, were the people responsible for the death of his sister. Although the man in particular had been killed by Aloy right at the start, each and every one of the Eclipse were just as guilty. If it killed him, he would take down every single one of them.

In the haze of the smoke and the blur of half-sleep, he imagined her sitting across the fire from him, her body whole and not riddled with her death-wounds.

“There are worse ways to die.” She said, and Varl nodded.

 

**Honey**

The huntress was bright, equal parts pragmatic and optimistic. Vanasha found it an irresistible combination with a sweet, playful smile.

The spy was a strange one, to be sure, but Talanah had met stranger. With warmth, she thought about her adventurous spirit, her desire to always be trying something new.

Neither had really planned for events to unfold as they had after their mid-morning market trip.

Vanasha found herself with a new addiction to a slender-but-strong figure that moved against her like water, and the way the woman had encouraged her as she grabbed at the jar in the bag of groceries.

Talanah knew she would never again think about honey the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised recently that a previous snippet, "Learning", is totally incorrect. She sees a sign for "Monument Valley" because I'm a dummy and thought for a while that HZD takes place in Utah. Oopsie doodle.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how 'bout them Finals, huh? (I was too busy stressing to write anything until now)  
> Also, I've clearly got Star Wars on the brain. Sue me, Lucas.

**Gate**

If there was one thing that was drilled into each and every soldier- more than the importance of this battle, more than what was at stake -it was Janeva's clear, strong voice belting out “HOLD THE GATE”. No other mantra rang clearer in their ears. It carried down their lines as they drilled, echoing through the city as Janeva worked them through their forms.

It filled their minds when the machines charged them.

It was their rallying cry through each successive wave.

It was cried out one last time as Janeva drove inwards with a rogue and a Nora trailing after him to face the Eclipse.

It finally left them as their world shook and the Deathbringer loomed before them.

When the dust had begun to settle, Janeva pulled himself up with a groan, feeling debris fall from his back and rubbing the dirt from his eyes. Gingerly he lifted his head and squinted through the haze of dust still settling. The gate was destroyed. From elsewhere in the city he could hear people scream and the various clangs, chirps, and whirs from machines. Stiffly, favoring his left leg and clutching the same side as a rib or two expressed their poor state, he rose and got his bearings. Footfalls from somewhere to his left and a Meridian soldier, in a limping jog, made his way over to the captain.

“Sir, the gate... we-”

“I know.” He winced, straightening as best he could, and patted the soldier's shoulder. “The gate is lost. You know what comes next?”

“...Sir?”

Janeva gave the man a grin through a grimace, nodding toward Meridian proper.

“We hold the city.”

 

**Nice**

Breath smelling faintly of mint and heavily of Carjan wine drifted over her.

“There aren't enough scoundrels in your life.”

Aloy pursed her lips, staring up into shining grey eyes that shone an iridescent brown-gold when the light hit them, trying to ignore the smirk on Nil's face.

“I happen to like _nice_ men,” she retorted, not liking the way her voice didn't sound particularly convincing, and even less so how he clearly was not convinced either, as he leaned until his lips whispered over hers.

“I _am_ a nice man.”

 

**Serve**

_There are certainly worse lords to serve_ , Vanasha thought as she handed back the flower pin to Itamen as he made an absolute disaster of her hair. He announced her to be finished and she turned toward the mirror, the little king grinning over her shoulder in the reflection. She beamed.

“Don't I just look _fabulous_!”

From across the room, Nasadi politely clapped and praised her son for his skills, whispering to Vanasha once he had moved on to other toys that she would help fix it later.

 

**Luxury**

Aloy stretched out, enjoying the feel of her bare legs surrounded by silk sheets. Nothing so fine had ever found its way into Nora lands but she found herself wildly impressed with it, as well as the incense burning a few feet away and the scent of the spice market drifting in through the screened window.

“You really ought to try shaving, one day,” Vanasha rolled onto her side to smile at her companion, rubbing one of her own perfectly smooth legs over Aloy's. The hunter cocked an eyebrow at her, shaking her head slowly 'no', but took the opportunity to run her hands along Vanasha's smooth skin, appreciating the different feel of her. The Carja had some strange customs and only some of them was she willing to personally experience. One of these, she soon realised, was a warm bath overflowing with foam and bubbles. Another was a woman at her back pressing kisses into her neck as she rubbed the last of the tension from the hunter's shoulders. Some things she could get used to, she thought.

 

**Pride**

The Oseram in general were know for being a very proud tribe- pride in themselves and pride in what they made. Ersa was no different; if anything, she brought it to new heights. She was endlessly fond of her people and all they did and instilled the same feelings into Erend, although he could never quite match her intensity. It was what drew everyone to her.

 

**Run**

Erend tripped to a stop, hands on his knees, panting hard.

“A- _Aloy_... hold up... for a moment...”

From a hill far enough away that she had to shout for him to hear her, came,

“I _DID_ TELL YOU WHEN WE MET.”

“Damn, girl,” he wheezed, considering dumping his armor on the spot. He took a deep breath and started off at a run, lungs burning, feet scuffing at the dirt.

 

**Shower**

The rain drenched the world, running rivers down Vanasha's face as she stared wide-eyed at the soldier.

“There,” he gasped, tugging his sword free of the Eclipse agent, feeling his foe's blade twisting in his own gut as its owner dropped to the ground. “Now we're even.” He quickly joined the corpse in the mud, eyes smarting with rain water until a dark face filled his vision and blocked the downpour.

“Uthid,” she said in a low voice, blinking away what had to be rainwater- he wouldn't believe it could be anything else. “There are better ways to impress me.” He grinned up at her as best he could, although the way her face contorted he wondered if he had only managed a grimace again.

“ _Now_ you tell me.”

 

**Hatred**

His world was made up violence and radiance, everything as it should be, Destiny and how to carry it out. The terrible righteousness of his cause burned through him and every soldier he led. But this was new; the light in the young woman's eyes somehow shone cold- freezing while it seared through him. The eyes locked with his through the bars of the cage held a power almost to rival the Sun. The Sun Helis knew could be deadly, but not vengeful. The way this creature looked at him, he could feel every way she was imagining tearing him apart.

 

**Joy**

The world had shifted. Everything he had grown used to was turned upside down. The silence that, depending on the day, was either comforting or unbearable, was broken regularly by pitiful cries or strange gurglings. It had been awhile since he had had a child to take care of, but it all came back to him steadily. It had only been a few months since the matriarchs had passed her on to his care, and he had fallen into an old but familiar rhythm. In spite of himself and his quiet nature, he couldn't help but talk to her- constantly. He'd talk to her about anything, describing the world, the way the Nora tribe worked, how to carry out the various tasks he'd perform. Of course she couldn't understand, but she'd smile up at him or laugh along at his back when he carried her. At night he'd tell her old Nora stories while he carved or wove, leaning over her crib to keep an eye on her.

He stopped one night, a small bow settled half-carved on his lap. He stared down at her and then pointed to her chest.

“Aloy,” he said, giving her a bit of a poke in the ribs. “ _Aloy_.” She smiled up at him and so he continued, pointing next to himself. “Rost. _Rost_.”

“Wod!”

He almost jumped, but recovered quickly.

“ _Rrr-aahh-ss-tt._ ”

She giggled. “ _Wod_!”

He sighed, but couldn't help but smile. The rest of the evening, and the better part of the following month, was filled with a tiny voice calling out “Wod! Wod!”.

His world had definitely changed, but he ever said it had changed for the worse, he'd have been lying. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I pulled myself away from blowing kisses at everyone in ESO for this.   
> I should have said it before, but feel free to send me prompts either here or on tumblr (candletrails.tumblr.com). Be as specific or vague as you want about WHAT you want. I'm up for just about anything.   
> Also- let me tell you about my headcanon polyromantic trio...

**Immortality**

There had been a short conversation she had had with Elisabet that, like a good many of their talks, ended on a somber note. Elisabet was endlessly proud and frequently pleasantly surprised by the 'humanity' which Gaia seemed to be creating all on her own. Her worrying about the humans around her- especially Lis -was a particular point of comfort.

“You have to care about something if you're going to save it.” Elisabet had said.

But the talk about death eventually arose. Gaia understood- everyone was going to die. Everyone. Except for herself and all of her various functions, if their existence could even be considered 'living'.

“It's just a part of life.” Elisabet sighed and shrugged, leaning back in her chair and nursing her cup (just water. Wine had been labeled as “absolutely, definitely NON-ESSENTIAL ( _TRAVIS_ _)”)._ “Even without the swarm, we would all die eventually.”

The projection of Gaia flickered, then said,

“I will miss you, Elisabet Sobeck.”

Lis stared at the projection, looked away, said goodnight, and walked to her bed.

It hadn't been the first time the program had said that, and it wouldn't be the last.

Nearly a thousand years later, Gaia stared down at Elisabet again- called “Aloy” now -and couldn't help but to say it again.

“I will miss you.”

Aloy grinned in a sweet sort of way.

“I'll miss you too. Just... maybe don't create a clone of me when I'm gone, please?”

And Gaia smiled- an expression it had taken her hundreds of years to perfect.

A clone wasn't necessary. Elisabet was gone and eventually Aloy too, but Gaia found she had the next best thing to those women she had so cared for- a long line of descendants, all red-haired and tenacious, all just as intent on leaving the world a better place. And Gaia found, eventually, that living forever wasn't as lonely as she had once thought.

 

**Pregnancy**

There had been one clear thing he had learned out in the desert, when he became a Kestrel- to be soft was to be weak. To find pleasure in a thing was to make oneself soft.

But he couldn't help it. The sun as he knew it- harsh, unforgiving -shone gently into the room, alighting on her belly as he rested his cheek to it; felt a kick.

The world could be damned, but he would have this one weakness and he would keep it even if it ruined him.

 

**Cuddling**

It had taken Aloy no time at all to discover that Erend was an obsessive cuddler. Every chance he got, he was on her or around her asking her to please, just come here, please, just for one minute. Behind her, in front of her, on top of her, under her; standing, sitting, laying down- it didn't matter. He'd hold her, rest his chin on her head, and run his fingers gently through her hair. It took her awhile to get used to all this affection, and she hadn't been comfortable with it at first. Years later, she couldn't get enough of it; didn't feel right unless he had his arm around her, his hand on her hip, his fingers tracing her jawline or cheek. It was one thing to be worshipped. It was another thing to be adored.

 

**Frail**

They were an odd pair, Janeva thought, watching the two women as they worked in the infirmary. The blonde woman, Nakoa, he had fought beside and could attest- willingly -to her strength. The younger woman seemed to be a Carjan noble; pale, weak, probably frivolous. He watched them for the next hour as he rested on a break, and was eventually forced to change his initial judgment.

They were quite a well-matched pair. Nakoa had a kind of quiet determination and while she was genuine and gentle with each patient she saw, she was able to keep herself perfectly together even when some of them passed away. The younger woman, on the other hand, was clearly quite emotional but with that, as he witnessed, was a fierce passion; a fiery center to Nakoa's cool and calm. She would get attached to everyone she met and tended to, crying whenever they lost one, but would pull herself together, shaking, and carry right on doing the best she could. Janeva found himself admiring her more and more and, when his break was nearly up, he wandered over.

“Nakoa.”

The blonde stood up, momentarily confused but recognition quickly took over and she gave him a small smile.

“I remember you. I never did get your name, though.”

“Janeva.” He almost gave her a short bow, but thought better of it and simply inclined his head instead. “How are the wounded?”

Her mouth turned in a grim line and she shrugged.

“We've lost many, but I think many more will survive.” She smiled again, eyebrows raising and head tilting in a persuasive sort of way. “People are strong.”

“Nakoa, there are a few more coming i- oh, I'm sorry!” The young woman had come up, but stopped short as she caught sight of Janeva. Nakoa turned to her with a warm look that Janeva took note of.

“It's alright. Elida, this is Janeva. Janeva, Elida.” She gestured from one to the other. The woman, Elida, fixed him with a steady look, cautious but strangely gentle, and he found himself thinking that there was little more he wanted than to stay caught in that gaze, to watch it change for him the way it did when she looked to Nakoa and the familiarity and sweetness welled up. Janeva saluted her with a fist to his chest and a nod and excused himself.

“Will we see you here again?” Nakoa asked before he had moved more than a few feet. He turned back and smiled.

“Why not?” He shrugged. “I can come back tomorrow.” Nakoa smiled back at him and Elida's eyes gentled somewhat as she said, quietly,

“See you tomorrow.”

He walked back to his post with his heart pounding in his ears and a sudden excitement for the future.

 

**Trust**

“Do you trust me?” He asked once, and Aloy turned him down outright. But there need be no trust between partners such a these.

“Do you trust me?” He asked later, and Aloy rolled her eyes. How could she trust someone when every memory she had of them was of a knife slicing through the air, blood spraying in an arc; an arrow to the throat, a gurgling death-rattle; a blood-soaked grin, wild-eyed, laughing at destruction, at death, at life.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, and she faltered. Sighed. Changed the subject.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, and she dug in deep with him, pulling as many gritty, gruesome details as he would let go of- and there was surprisingly many. She wondered, later, what the point of the question was. Why was this so important? And why couldn't she answer him anymore?

“Nil,” She turned to face him, hair flying in the sparks and eyes flashing with the fires all around them, her voice cutting clear to him through the screeches of metal and the cries of their enemies. She held out a calloused and bloody hand. “Do you trust me?”

He smiled, showing teeth, his eyes bright and alive and staring into hers like there was nothing else to see. He took her hand in his- calloused, bloody.

“Always.”

 

**Treasure**

“You'd think they would have been a bit more clear about things.” His companion huffed, dropping the remains of a book unceremoniously to the floor where it crumbled instantly to dust. Sylens bit back the desire to tear the man's head off (literally or verbally).

“What did you expect? A giant sign saying, ' _RIGHT HERE IS EXACTLY WHAT YOU'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR_ '? Nothing is ever that easy.” He turned back to the drawers he was rifling through, trying to ignore the increasingly irritated commentary from his tribesman. Eventually the man let out an over-dramatic sigh and stated loudly that he would be waiting outside. Two minutes later the echoes of his steps had finally disappeared entirely.

“ _Finally_.” Sylens breathed, taking his spear from where he had propped it against the wall and heading for the doorway he had spotted an hour ago behind a half-fallen bookshelf. He heaved it aside and stepped into a hallway that was dark except for a few flickering, glowing symbols on the wall that he couldn't understand.

He passed through and found himself in a small room with a collapsed ceiling, snow flurries and weak sunlight drifting in. He stood in the light for a minute, then turned away. This room was devoid of anything interesting except a doorway in the wall opposite of where he had entered. The door opened and a gust of air swept past him, blowing snow and dust in.

Half of the room was taken up with smaller, partitioned areas, each with a small table and a seat. Most of them were decorated with crumbling relics he couldn't guess at the purpose of. It wasn't until he reached the farthest corner at the back, deep in the shadows, when he spotted it.

“Now what do we have here?” He asked the darkness around him, reaching out to gently take the item, afraid that it would disintegrate between his fingers. But it didn't. It was small and perfectly smooth and as he ran his fingers along it he thought he saw a faint light growing in a thin line down one side. As he continued to turn it in his hand, the light grew until all at once it flickered and flashed, bright enough that he had to squint but only lasting a second before it died back to a low, almost comforting glow. It thrummed lightly in his fingers and the world around him came to life in arcs and lights and symbols. He could hardly breathe with the way his heart pounded in his chest.

From the halls behind him came the echoing voice of his tribesman calling,

“Sylens? _Come back!_ There's nothing for you in there.”

“There's more than you can imagine.” He muttered, and took his new treasure deeper into the ruins.

 

**Morning**

The light crept in over his eyes and Janeva woke up in the gentlest way he hadn't known was possible. He blinked, each time bringing a bit more clarity to the world around him, driving sleep back with every breath.

The window over the bed had been left half-open, letting in the cool morning air and the soft sounds of life stirring outside. He opened his eyes wide, taking one deep breath to clear the rest of the sleep from his body, and followed the light with his eyes to where is fell across him. A tangle of hair rested across his chest, blonde and a mousy red-brown. The locks led further along to two heads pressed into his side, one turned slightly toward the ceiling, the other facing the first and nestled against the pale cheek. Elida and Nakoa.

He shifted carefully so he could better look at the scene they had all settled into and after a moment of discomfort and confusion found his left arm quite numb and draped across the shoulders of the two women at his side. His legs were in a similar state, dangling off the edge of the bed after his knees; he had forgotten he had given them the length of it, with himself down at the end and the two of them laying the wrong way, with their feet by the headboard. They looked perfectly comfortable, curled into each other and his chest.

He tried moving again, slowly sliding off the end of the bed, but his movement was stopped again when Elida stirred, groaning in her sleep, and reached out to wrap her fingers in the front of his tunic. He sighed, but couldn't help but smile. He knelt on the floor, the upper half of his bed still on the bed, shoulders and head now pressed between the two women. He made a mental note to come up with a better sleeping situation, and drifted off again.

 

**Mortal**

The house was more or less as she remembered it. A thick layer of dust had settled on every surface and she resisted the urge to wipe it all away; to clean and set right and settle herself on the couch like nothing had ever happened and maybe she was still a child here. Her legs shook as she stared around at it all and almost convinced herself that it had all been a bad dream, but she was still standing there, wheezing, and her eyes rested on the broken kitchen window and the desolate landscape outside. She stared at the chairs around the table, tempted to sink down, but she felt quite sure that if she went down now she wouldn't get back up again.

So she walked. Room to room, down the hall, dragging her fingers along the wall as much for balance as memory. She couldn't feel the carpet in the bedrooms or the wood floor in the kitchen, but she remembered how it felt on bare feet. She stood in the doorway to her room and her eyes closed, breath coming harsh. She shook herself, coughed weakly, took a deep breath, and pushed herself back down the hall, limping out the front door, and made it to the wall of the garden before she finally collapsed.

If she closed her eyes, she could remember what it all looked like. The exact placement of every flower and tree. The line where the greenery ended and the desert crept back in. If she closed her eyes she could shut out the desolation around her.

“ _You have to care about something if you're going to save it.”_

She breathed in as deep as she could, the air choking her more than it helped.

“ _It's just a part of life.”_

She closed her eyes.

“ _I will miss you, Elisabet Sobeck.”_

She dreamed of the garden.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real short chapter this time. I have a few in-progress snippets that I'm hoping to put up in another chapter in the next few days, though.

**Nightmare**

 

In the silence of the wilderness, she can hear him breathe from across the campsite. A breath and he's closer. Her eyes open and he's there.

In the dark of the night, his face looms over her. Pale as the moon now hidden behind the trees. Grin bloodthirsty as a sawtooth.

As the snow starts to fall he's reaching for her and she can't move again. Pressure on her windpipe. She's lifted from the ground.

The world's gone white from snow and want of oxygen. Rost is still in the snow, painting the scenery with more blood than should ever have come from a person.

This time, there's no one to charge in and save the day. This time, his grin splits manic across his face. This time, the blade pierces her thr-

Aloy jolts awake, her cry startling the overriden grazer nearby. It whirs in slight annoyance, moves off a few yards, and settles back down. She watches it, confused and panting, and then lets her gaze dart over the camp. Empty. The fire's died somewhat, but it still gives off enough light to see clearly by. There's no snow, but a nip has come into the air and she shivers, pulling her blanket closer around her shoulders. Out of habit, her fingers stray to her neck, feeling the slight rise of the scar from Helis' dagger. When her eyes close again she can see his face too clearly, sees his eyes piercing hers from the darkness of memory. She doesn't try to sleep again.

 

**Pet**

 

“Gaia?” Aloy asks, tapping at her Focus. No answer. “...Sylens?” Also nothing. She sighs. The machine whirs in front of her, tilting its head curiously. Its mouth opens wide and she jumps, hand going instinctively for her spear, but it doesn't lunge for her and its eyes remain blue. It leaves its jaw hanging for no noticeable reason, letting out a low grating sound- almost like a breath.

“ _GAIA_?” She tries again, but there's still no response. “What am I supposed to do with _this_?” She asks the air, waving at the new machine. It bounces up at the gesture and she jumps again in surprise, but it keeps bouncing and bounding around her, jaw swinging.

“What?” She asks, sighing again. “What do you want? You want to go somewhere? Fine.” She starts walking and, strangely, it follows. Without her having done an override. Every few minutes it bounds ahead, stops some ways off and turns back, mouth flapping as it sends out short, booming calls. It sounds like a cough, oddly enough. And why does its tail keep moving? It matches her step for step, never falling behind, and when they find a few unfriendly machines, it helps her take them down. When she settles down for the night, it curls up at her side, tail still thumping slightly. In spite of herself, she can't help but smile at her new companion.

“Gaia? Look, I know you're probably... down for maintenance, or too busy, or... _whatever_. But... thank you.”

 

**Tender**

 

He's not like she expected. She had grown used to the harshness that seemed as much a part of her life as the world around her. The fights, the wounds, the insults, the disapproving or outright hostile looks. The burning of the sun or the biting cold. _This is just life,_ she thought. _Sure, it hurts. But that's life._

He reaches for her and her stomach flips in warning to pull away from the inevitable pain. She stares at him unflinching and holds her breath.

But it doesn't hurt, and that alone almost makes her balk and turn away. The lightest touch trails down her cheek, traces her jawline. She clenches her teeth until the shuddering under her skin stops; balls her hands tight into fists until she stops wanting to run. He holds her gaze steady and she knows she must look like she's glaring at him but he's looking at her with a steadiness and a softness that unwinds the tension across her shoulders in slow strokes, relaxes the muscles in her back and leaves her body all at once slack as he smooths his palm over her cheek. She breathes out.

_I understand_ , she thinks, as he takes a slow and cautious step closer and she doesn't try to run. _H_ _ow Ersa must have felt._ _Why she would choose this._

The rest of the world could run her ragged, leave her with cuts and bruises, broken bones, unanswered questions and every harsh reality it can think of. But here was something soft. Here was patience and tenderness and a space to breathe. She closes her eyes and lets her forehead rest against his. The world holds still around them.

 

**Dream**

 

In the lively, chattering noise of the wilderness, she can't hear the woman as she moves closer from across the field. Red hair contrasts with the forest. She steps carefully.

In the brightness of the morning, the world glitters with the remnants of scattered showers. Colors show vibrant and bright. Everything smells of moist earth and greenery.

Another shower starts but the world remains bright, the clouds moving quickly. She's drenched, but feels warm. The woman arrives, standing just beyond arms-reach, and they both stare. The wind picks up as the rain moves on and with a sigh, the woman takes a seat. She looks the younger woman over and rests her chin on her palm.

“What kind of name is ' _Aloy_ ', anyway?” She asks and her tone is tired but gentle, a smile creeping into the edges of her lips.

“You're one to talk. What kind of name is ' _Elisabet_ '?” Aloy counters, but she's smiling, no aggression or defensiveness in her voice. Across from her, her mother grins.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops did I say "a couple of days"?  
> A request was made for more Nil x Aloy and by golly, I aim to deliver both in this chapter and the next (whenever I can get it up)

**Stoic**

 

He cut an interesting figure in the distance, standing out easily in his bright armor amongst all the green and the yellowing leaves. Pale steady eyes gazed into the distance with an unsettling intensity. When she had first seen him, surrounded by bodies and with that same look on his face, staring at some point further down the road, she had thought he cut a rather imposing figure. A well-seasoned hunter; perhaps a bit grim or brooding.

She approached him now with the bandit camp stretching out to her left, padding softly through the grass. He finally looked up when she was within a few yards, that same look- the dangerous intensity, the look a wolf might give to a rabbit -held on for the space of a breath, then a crooked grin curved his lip and the glint in his eyes turned more playful than predatory and he said

“There you are! I was worried I might have to start without you. Has your blood started singing in your ears yet? Hold onto that. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Aloy gave him a smile that could more easily be called a grimace.

“Nice to see you too, Nil.”

 

**Absence**

 

“Home.”

The door creaks open and she's hit with a wave of stale air- all dust and frost. Light plays on motes drifting in the breeze, falling across the floor. The world is silent around her. She takes in a shaking breath, shivering off his voice echoing in her ears, mixing with the sounds of a young girl's laughter. She exhales and takes a step inside.

The cabin is exactly as Aloy last saw it. It's hard to breathe and she's not sure if it's from the poor air or from the fact that she thinks she could turn around this second and see him standing in the doorway and yet she feels utterly alone. She doesn't linger, but turns right back around and leaves the house, stepping trembling into the snow drifts. She doesn't stop again until she's reached the edge of their little corner of the world.

“No. It's not home anymore.” She whispers. “Not without Rost.”

 

**Chocolate**

 

“I'm beginning to think you enjoy stressing me out, sir.”

“Are you stressed?” Avad asked, throwing a smile over his shoulder. “And would you not mope around behind me? If you insist on playing the guard, wouldn't you do better being up _here_?” Ersa sighed through a grin, catching up with him in a stride.

The general fuss in the marketplace hadn't died down much with the presence of the king. The area immediately around him was a calm eye to the storm of merchants and buyers; as soon as he was near enough, it was all smiles and sales pitches, talking about how much of a steep discount they can give him, or more often trying to give send him off with goods for free (he outright refused every time), but the tone altered dramatically as soon as he had moved off.

“Are you actually going to buy anything?” Ersa asked as Avad turned down yet another free gift.

“I plan to. I just need to remember where the stall wa- oh! Here we are!” He waved for her to follow and darted off around a bend, Ersa keeping pace easily. The king stopped in front of a more enclosed stall tucked into a cool little corner of the market. He chatted easily with the shopkeep for a few minutes, then turned to Ersa with a small brown rock in his hand.

“For you.”

“For-? Why?”

“To... _eat_...?”

“Why would I eat a rock?” She felt rather like she was speaking to a child, but Avad had looked so excited and now he was leaning more towards disappointed. She gave up. “ _Fine_.”

The rock was surprisingly soft and she could feel it slipping against her skin as she held it. Perhaps it wasn't a rock after all? She cast another dubious look at Avad, watching her intently, then shrugged and tossed it into her mouth. Her eyes widened.

“Like it?” Avad grinned as Ersa stared at him, speechless. Something rich had coated the inside of her mouth, enveloping her like a warm blanket on a cold day. The “rock” turned over in her mouth, adding another layer of decadence as it melted over her tongue. Her vision blurred in soft bliss.

“ _Well_?” She couldn't bring herself to swallow and so could not give him an answer. Instead, she hung her head. Avad laughed, leaving her side for a moment and, on returning, pressed a wrapped package into her hands. His smile fixed her as she looked back up. “Think a pound of that will last you until we can sneak out again?”

She looked from him to the package and back again. She swore she could have kissed him then.

 

**Daisies**

 

“Do you feel better now?”

Aloy groaned, squeezing her eyes shut, tempted to roll onto her side so she was facing away from him.

“Nil, it's only been five minutes.” He sighed in response, shifting in the grass next to her. The scene was silent for another minute, then

“That one looks like a snapmaw.” Aloy's eyes snapped open, looking to him in confusion and alarm. He glanced at her, smiling lazily, and pointed to the sky. “See? There's the tail, the back legs, over there's the snout...”

A touch annoyed, she followed his finger to gaze at the sky stretched above them. The clouds drifted overhead, taking on all shapes and sizes and yes, sure enough, a long smooth line of white did indeed look rather like a snapmaw.

“Yeah, I see it.”

“And look, that one over there? Well, that's a watcher, if ever I saw one.”

“That... looks nothing like a watcher.”

“Sure it does! Look, there's the right leg and there's the-”

“It looks more like a rabbit, if you ask me.”

“... A... rabbit.”

She looked to Nil again, feeling a bit better in spite of everything. He was frowning at the cloud.

“Nil?”

He sighed and pushed himself up.

“We'll have to agree to disagree on that one.”

“Sure.” Aloy shrugged and sat up as well, getting to her feet on still-unsteady legs. She the grass and flowers off of her clothes. “I feel up to moving on, if you-” She froze, hand half-raised, and stared at him.

“What?”

And stared.

“Aloy?”

She turned away to hide the uncontrollable smile that had taken over her face, ignoring Nil's persistent questions and electing immediately to not tell him about the multitude of small, white flowers and petals that had nestled themselves into his dark hair.

 

**Sea**

 

“I've never seen anything so...” She shook her head slowly, the wind whipping her hair about her face, flinging long red strands into her eyes. “So... _much_.”

It was cold. The sky was a cool grey and the air smelled like rain. The beach she stood on was populated only by birds, but as she looked out over the water she could see the occasional flash of lights from some unknown machine under the waves. By the movement of the water and what glimpses she caught of it, it must have been massive; only the metal devils could beat it in size. She strode to the water with some difficulty, her boots sinking easily into the sand, and dipped her hand in, holding a palmful of water to her lips-

-and promptly spat it right back out.

“That was...” She coughed a bit. “ _Disgusting_.” She looked back over the water, noticing flashes of more machines of differing sizes now that she was closer. She sniffled as a few droplets finally broke from the clouds and landed on her cheeks. “Undrinkable water filled with probably hostile machines. Guess I won't be swimming in _this_ puddle.”

In spite of the impracticality of the thing, she couldn't help but be oddly drawn to it. It was beautiful, in its own way. She settled herself on log nearby and stared at the water, feeling at peace for the first time in weeks.

 

**Wander**

 

“Why do you want to go off with _him_ , of all people?” Erend looked with disapproval and more than a little hostility towards Nil, leaning against a wall down the road by the gate.

“That's my business.” She replied curtly, then softened a bit as she said, “I can't tell you when I'll be back, but I _will_ be back. Take care of yourself.” She smiled at the Oseram warrior and waved as she turned away, walking to her hunting partner. He smiled as she came closer, falling into step beside her and chatting easily about something she couldn't seem to focus on. Instead, her head was filled with every question and worry voiced by her companions about her choice of traveling partner. They had said it all- he's dangerous, he's not to be trusted, he'll betray or abandon you the first chance he gets. He'll turn on you eventually. It's inevitable.

She had countered each time with the same question: Well, would you like to come along instead?

And then came the excuses. Everyone had their reasons.

Vanasha had missions to carry out for Avad, Erend had a king and a city to protect. Talanah had a lodge to run and hunts to perform. Varl and the other Nora were all heading back to the embrace. Everyone had something tying them down. Everyone. Except him.

She looked at Nil out of the corner of her eye. He continued talking about something or other, the left corner of his mouth ever quirked, eyes constantly roaming and darting about, always looking (and hoping) for danger.

The thing was, they were right about him. Mostly, at least. It was entirely possible that he could betray her at some point. And he _was_ dangerous. But then, so was she. She they were a near-perfect match, which they proved time and again. Whether it was charging into battle, slinking silently into bandit camps, enjoying the quiet of the wilderness, or writhing and rolling into each other with a desperation her other companions couldn't dream of- they were always, always on the same level.

So she left with him. And they wandered the world.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A gal finally got her ass in gear and bought and played The Frozen Wilds. So I can actually start working on things again.  
> Warning for the snippet titled "Bloody". It deals with some abuse and ptsd -like material. It's the last thing in this chapter, so it's easy to skip or skim over, as needed.

**Butterfly**

 

He felt oddly calm.

The sky was a perfect, deep blue with the purest white clouds drifting overhead, pushed along by a soft and persistent breeze. The branches of the trees nearby shook with it, throwing dappling shade over his face and shoulders, the cool grass beneath him feeling every kind of wonderful on his lightly-singed skin.

Nakoa's bedside manner had been well enough, but Janeva's had left something to be desired; he had stood just behind the young Nora woman, offering the least helpful and most bossy commentary at every other moment. There were times, Nil thought, that knowing people in high(er) places wasn't actually such a good thing. But Janeva had helped bring him out here and then left to continue trailing after Nakoa at the makeshift infirmary for the post- Battle of Meridian wounded, promising to return later to help bring him back.

Nil groaned, pulling himself up a few inches from the ground, then flopping back down with a sigh. His whole left side was still a disaster, having come into unfriendly contact with a machine's tail and then a wall, and it still complained fiercely when he moved certain ways. His ribs were currently making the best argument for staying flat on his back a while longer.

It would still be some time before Janeva would pull his ass away from his new sweetheart. He had time.

The clouds parted brilliantly, letting warm sunshine land fully across his form, unimpeded by the tree or its leaves. The blue of the sky was broken by a small yellow form, practically glowing with sunlight. A butterfly drifted overhead in the warm air. Nil couldn't help but smile. Not more than a handful of yards away lay the remains of the machines they had destroyed during the battle. Bloodstains could still be found in the dirt and grass. Here and there were small areas of charred earth. Life didn't care.

Groaning again, he lifted himself up, ignoring the feeling of his ribs all but collapsing in protest, and managed to get seated upright... only to find his head in the midst of a cloud of wings.

Janeva had commented once, almost bitterly, that Nil didn't care for anything except the feel of a weapon in his hand, the taste of blood in his teeth. That life didn't have any meaning for him unless he was stealing it from someone else.

While he could see the point and agree with it to some extent, Nil still knew that wasn't the full truth. There was more to life- to find beautiful -than just in the battle. It was all around.

It was the gentlest thing he had ever seen, the swarm fluttering about him in the air, in the flowers dotting the grass.

Yes, there was beauty to be found in the struggle of power, dominance, destruction; the art of finding the right space between the ribs to slip a knife into, feeling the heart seize around it and then stop.

But there was plenty to be found outside of violence, too. Sunlight through leaves. The dizzying blue of the sky. The chill crawling up your skin when a chill breeze brushed past.

Butterflies dancing over a battlefield.

The magnificent persistence of life in the face of death.

With another groan or two he rose, barely glancing back through the trees at the gate to Meridian before he started off across the grass, not really sure where he was headed and not particularly caring where he would end up. It didn't matter. It would all work out in the end.

Life was funny like that.

 

–

 

**Kid**

 

This time, when she marches forward they don't glare.

This time they pause, the woman recognizing her after a moment, and her eyes don't harden. They soften, then glance about, noting that there is no one else here. Just the children.

This time, when small hands, eager eyes, hold up the offering, she takes it. More berries for the basket.

The children creep forward, all curiosity.

She becomes fast friends with Bast. They're both bright and competitive. But to Vala, she is joined at the hip. Wherever one goes, the other is sure to follow. Two giggling girls, racing each other through the trees.

By the end of the day, no one can imagine being cruel to her. No one can imagine throwing rocks, turning their backs, or talking down to her.

When they leave, it's with promises to see each other again soon. Promises they have no intention of breaking.

When the woman leads the children away, it's with warmth and with sadness.

No one should force the sins of someone else on the young and unknowing.

No one should make a child feel alone.

 

–

 

**Shiver**

 

“Are you _still_ cold?”

Aloy glanced at her companion, not sure if she was annoyed with her, the biting cold of The Cut, or with herself. She nodded, staring hard at the fire. Ikrie laughed a little, moving to Aloy's side with her blankets.

“You're a Nora, right?” She asked as she settled in next to Aloy, wrapping a blanketed arm around her shoulders. “I've heard it can get pretty cold over there, but it's nothing compared to Banuk lands. No one is ever really prepared.”

She leaned in, rubbing at Aloy's shoulder a bit, pulling back only when Aloy stiffened.

“I'm not trying anything,” she explained with a smile. “Sharing heat helps.” She waited until Aloy had relaxed again and leaned in on her own to wrap the blankets back around the both of them, arm back around her shoulders.

It did help. The shivering stopped after a few minutes, and while the contact wasn't something she was accustomed to, Aloy found that it wasn't entirely unpleasant. It was... comforting. She drifted off, wondering if Ikrie had done this with Mailen too.

 

–

 

**Slot**

 

Varga was overjoyed, to say the least, when Aloy presented her with all three weapons and their upgrade materials to work with. Aloy sat back to watch her as she got straight to tinkering.

“I've been waiting ages to get my hands on this girl......... look at how delicate this piece is........ you have to oil this part up a bit, or they won't slide together right.......... see how this shudders when you apply a little pressure?............... just strap this on................. you have to grip this tight.............. she'll buck under your hands a little, but I'm sure you can handle it.............. and, see, if you stick your fingers in the slot just there- hey, you OK?”

Aloy stared at her, not sure if the warmth was from discomfort or something else. She coughed.

“Should IIIii... come back _later_?”

 

–

 

**Chaste**

 

It hadn't taken Nil long to catch onto the fact that Aloy was, plain and simple, not the least bit interested in having sex- not with him, not with anyone. This was only a cause for annoyance on one night when tension ran high and the blood didn't want to stop it's frantic pumping. He had strode towards her with purpose, blood mixing with sweat streaming down his face, fresh bodies behind him. He had grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her into a fierce and desperate sort of kiss, the passion of which she had returned wholeheartedly, but he found himself immediately on his backside in the mud when he tried to push things further. He hadn't been completely angry, at least not once he saw the panic in her eyes. He left her alone in the camp that night to give them both a little space to calm down.

Soon after he made every effort to discover her limits- some of which she told him easily, others were more a matter of trial and error. But after a couple of months he felt it safe to assume he knew what was allowed and what would send him out on his ass again with his fierce partner standing furious over him.

He learned that while she didn't care for sexual intimacy, she loved affection (so long as one eased into it). Passion would be returned full-force, but lust would be fought.

 

–

 

**Connection**

 

“And next time-”

“We make fewer mistakes.”

Ikrie grinned and Aloy's stomach felt all at once like it had dropped and soared at the same time.

They tried the challenge again. It went a little more smoothly this time, but one too many machines swinging out of the way of her arrows had her running out before they had downed the bellowback. So they went back to camp to rest. They talked while they sat or gathered medicinal herbs, and then tried the challenge again. Closer, but still not quite in first place, they returned and started the process over again; rest, gather, talk.

Ikrie pried gently about her past- not to be nosy or pushy, but just out of good-natured curiosity for her hunting companion. If Aloy seemed uncomfortable with a subject, Ikrie backed off in an instant, treating the whole thing like it was no big deal. Aloy found it comforting, and wondered if this was the sort of thing other people had done growing up. This kind of gentle and gradual getting to know each other.

Finishing the challenge was almost bittersweet.

“I... don't suppose you plan on heading towards Meridian any time soon?” Aloy asked when they were back at the camp, trying not to sound too hopeful.

“I hadn't thought about it, but who knows?” That same easy-going, toothy grin. “Ghosts roam where they will.”

“If you ever make it down that way... look me up?” She felt like she was blushing, and hoped that Ikrie would take it for an effect of the cold. She simply smiled, nodded, and they parted.

“Hey, Aloy!” She spun around- maybe too quickly -to look back at the young woman by the fire. Ikrie smiled again, a little more sweetly, a little more gently. “See you around?”

Aloy smiled back and nodded.

“See you.”

 

–

 

**Bloody**

 

The ground rumbled under her feet again, followed by the sounds of another rock slide outside, the dust eventually drifting in through an opening that had once been a window but was now roughly the size of a bed stood up on its end. The light crept through the hazy, dirty air to illuminate the cracked and crumbling ground, littered with stones. Vanasha took a shallow breath, trying not to cough. A hallway stretched out before her, the walls punctuated here and there with a doorway. She started down, her footsteps echoing faintly through an otherwise silent atmosphere, now that the rubble had stopped shifting outside. A door had been knocked out of its proper place in her destination on the left, leaving a gaping hole. She turned in to it and then

she was seven, barreling down the corridor as fast as her little legs could carry her, panting, sweat streaming down her back as a voice bellowed after her. She laughed under her breath- or what little she had left -and took herself into a room at the end, darting under the bed. Footsteps followed after her, but they were making too much noise themselves to hear her catching her breath. They stomped around for a minute, then strode out. A sigh of relief escaped her lips- too soon. They came back and she was pulled by her ankles out from under the bed. A swift, sharp clap of a hand across her face silenced the shriek of surprise, further chased away when she was thrown to the ground, knocking the remaining air from her lungs. A belt was loosed and hung near her mouth; a warning of what was to come. She breathed in the scent of leather.

A fine perfume in a cloud at the roof of her mouth. She blinked at her reflection in a cracked mirror. Not a seven-year-old, but a woman, grown and accomplished and-

She sniffed a little, turning away from the mirror to face the next room, hidden in the corner of the once-fine but now dusty and deserted room she stood in. It wasn't much. In fact, it was hardly better than nothing. One small bed pushed into a corner, taking all of two steps to get there from the door. A glorified closet. She crouched in front of the bed and

felt the first searing crack of the whip across her back. Another lash, and she could feel the blood begin to trail down her back, her dress ripped open to expose as much of the skin there as possible. She stared down at its remains, bunched around her waist. It was ruined anyway. The blood seeped in around her hips, creeping towards her belly. Her little hands clung to the sheets of the bed, the small room, what was supposed to be her sanctuary, filled to deafening with her cries as the whip snapped back across her, and then again, and then

she closed her eyes. Hung her head. No one was crying. No one was screaming. There was silence all around, broken after a moment by another explosion nearby. The vanguard must be getting closer. Her eyes opened again, followed the curving indent on the bed. A small child, but not her. There must have been several after she had left. The sheets were the same. Heavily stained and tattered, half tossed aside. They must have left in a hurry. With little hesitation. Vanasha reached out and pulled the sheets back over, tucking them in and making the bed as nice and neat as it could be.

A voice, deep and presumably male, called from outside the room and for a moment she started to sink back into memory. A man was waiting for her to come out and whether or not she came he would find her anyway. Her back ached and she scrunched herself into a ball as the footsteps came closer and she prayed that they were in a better mood today, better than they had been yesterday when the whip came out again, snapping through the air and

“Vanasha?”

She jumped, fear contracting her chest, until memory faded and she remembered why this voice sounded familiar.

Uthid.

She looked carefully over her shoulder, noting the gentle worry that had taken over his face.

“Do you need a minute?”

“No.” She answered simply, and rose, brushing the dust from her dress. “I'm done with this.”

She turned her back on the room and strode out, past Uthid who paused before following her back down the hallways and back out into the sunlight. Out of the dusty, haunted silence and into the cries of victory from the Carja and the Oseram Vanguard. Sunfall had been retaken from the Shadow Carja.

Vanasha took a deep breath. The era of fear and oppression was over. They were all free.


End file.
